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lick-me-lennon22 · 4 months ago

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Beatles X ADHD!Reader Headcanons

(Hello, everyone!! I apologize for the short hiatus, I've been going through a lot following my 21st birthday as well as some family/work troubles. I also want to give a happy, happy 84th birthday full of peace and love to the one and only Richard Starkey!!! ☮️💞☮️💞☮️💞 As always, please let me know if anything in this post comes across as offensive or insensitive, and take what resonates with you :) I'm glad to be back and hope you all enjoy this post!!)

John

John is intrigued by your unique perspective and view of the world

He admires your creativity and often finds inspiration in your spontaneous ideas

He encourages you to channel your energy into your passions - whether it's music, art, or any other creative pursuit

John understands that you may struggle with focus at times and offers gentle reminders or helps you create strategies to stay organized

He'll support you through restless nights by staying up and chatting with you, plagued by his own insomnia, and helps you get your energy out

He also understands that you may thrive in an environment that may seem chaotic to others, but embraces the unpredictability and encourages you to express yourself freely without fear of judgement

John greatly values your honesty and openness about your challenges

He shares his own vulnerabilities and struggles with you, creating a bond built on mutual understanding and support

He enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you, exploring different topics and learning from your point of view

You two often have late-night chats that range from philosophical discussions to whimsical flights of fancy

He appreciates your ability to jump from topic to topic, finding it refreshing and inspiring

John absolutely loves to collaborate with you on creative projects, whether it's writing songs together or brainstorming ideas for new ventures

Your spontaneous and unique ideas often lead to innovative and unexpected song lyrics or artistic projects

During times when you feel overwhelmed or distracted, John offers a supportive presence

Whether it's through gentle reminders, offering reassurance, or simply listening as you ramble about your latest hyperfixation, he provides unwavering comfort and understanding

Paul

Paul is naturally a very supportive and nurturing partner

He is exceptionally patient and understanding during times when you become distracted or overwhelmed

He also thrives on creating structure and routine, which helps you manage your symptoms effectively

He'll collaborate with you to create adaptive routines and to-do lists that accommodate you, designing schedules that provide flexibility while ensuring important tasks are completed without stress

Paul helps you channel your creative energy into organized projects

He enjoys planning songwriting sessions or artistic endeavors that allow you to streamline your enthusiasm and ideas

Paul listens attentively when you ramble and infodump about your hyperfixations

His optimism and positivity uplift you, helping you feel more confident and capable in managing your ADHD

He always makes it a point to celebrate your achievements, big and small, recognizing the effort and determination it takes to accomplish tasks despite your ADHD-related challenges

Paul is very attuned to your emotional needs, offering comfort and support during moments of frustration or overwhelm

During periods of self-doubt, Paul makes sure to emphasize his belief in your abilities and resilience

He will also take the liberty of decluttering your work and living spaces, as well as locating items you may have misplaced, wanting to keep you from experiencing additional stress

He will often pick up your medication for you (if applicable), and always reminds you to take your meds

Paul helps you set clear goals and prioritize your tasks

He suggests therapies and coping mechanisms, helping you to make informed decisions to improve your daily life

George

George appreciates your spontaneity and creativity, and feels it aligns well with his laid-back personality

He encourages you to explore different hobbies and interests, recognizing your potential to excel in various creative endeavors

He values your insight and often seeks your perspective on music, philosophy, and art

George appreciates your ability to share your experiences openly with him, even when your thoughts are racing or your emotions are intense

You bond over using music as a form of therapy, playing acoustic guitars together or listening to soothing melodies that help calm your mind and enhance your focus

George enjoys spending quiet moments with you - whether it's meditating, enjoying nature, or simply existing and decompressing together

He loves to escape with you to peaceful, natural settings where you can both unwind, connect with one another, and find inspiration in the beauty of your surroundings

He provides a calming presence for you, helping you feel grounded and supported in moments of overwhelm or distraction

George notices small details about your behavior and mood, which helps him recognize when you need gentle reminders or space to recharge

He always respects your need for personal space and quiet moments

George, of course, introduces you to and walks you through mindfulness practices and meditation techniques that help you center yourself and manage your ADHD symptoms more effectively

He supports you in setting boundaries and encourages you to prioritize self-care

George shares his passion for health and wellbeing with you, encouraging activities like yoga, journaling, and nutritious cooking, which promote physical and mental balance

Ringo

Ringo embraces your spontaneity, finding joy and solace in your playful and creative nature

He values your unique talents and perspectives, always taking genuine interest in your hyperfixations

Ringo encourages you to express yourself freely and to always embrace your quirks and unique strengths

His humor and warmth create a positive atmosphere where you feel accepted and cherished for who you are

His lighthearted approach helps alleviate day-to-day stress and pressure

Ringo finds great pleasure in making you laugh, and appreciates your own playful sense of humor and view of things

Ringo is naturally flexible and adaptable, which helps him to navigate your changing moods and interests with ease

He recognizes that your ADHD may lead to shifts in your interests or priorities and remains supportive and understanding in these moments

Ringo enjoys planning outings and activities that cater to your interests, making sure you're both engaged and having fun

He savors moments of comfortable silence and parallel play with you, where you can simply be together without constant need for stimulation or conversation

He deeply appreciates the peace and connection found in these quiet moments

Ringo creates a safe space for you to express yourself creatively however you see fit - whether it be through doodling, writing, or other forms of artistic expression

Empathy is a huge aspect of his support, as he also struggles with ADHD symptoms and navigates his challenges alongside yours

He provides a comforting and understanding presence during times where you feel frustrated or overstimulated

Ringo offers a calming and positive demeanor, as well as unconditional support, reassuring you that you are not alone in managing your ADHD

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denimshortsdean · 8 months ago

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TAG GAME!!:

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up.

I was tagged by the darling @e-mio ! Decided to shuffle my Daylist (classic anthem late friday night in case you were wondering)

Changes - David Bowie

Day Tripper - The Beatles

Keep Yourself Alive - Queen

Brown Sugar - The Rolling Stones

Bad Medicine - Bon Jovi

absolutely no pressure to do this but I'm tagging @nostalgicbones @forkinthegarbagedisposal @letterlimerence @electric-loser @deansotherotherphone @passiveagressivepoet and @thesurprisinglyqueertoast!

#it's ya boi rach #tag games #rb games #music #gpoy #sam im sorry this is so late!

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rexkoolaid · 3 months ago

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Things I saw on the A Hard Days Night website archive (on interactual) PART 1

Long post. No IDs because Im doing this for fun and I have to return the DVD to my college library. Feel free to add ID if you'd like.

PART 2!

1: this is the first page from it. Clicking the enter button and the boxes all lead you to the next page but with a different bugs face on it.

2: The text is the same each time so here's all their photos

and the text

3a: the "Yesterday" button still has the photos of the bugs on the left side but it also has a letter!

3b: The "Here Today" button leads to these buttons. I'll get back to them later

4: After hitting the Launch this cute little screen appears (not john the other thing)

Each page will be on a different post because I recorded video of them

"Talk About Boys" page "Act Naturally" Page

5: The Script Button (from 3b)

its exactly what one would expect.

I'm not going to post the whole 115 pages or the deleted/additional scenes in this post because I don't have the time for that right now. Maybe soon.

6. Silver Screen Legends:

its a page with some fun facts about filming!

in the image when you hover over it with a mouse it reads "In their very early days the Beatles really DID share hotel rooms - and so much more! Here's their hotel room from the film."

this one says "On the first day of shooting - director Richard Lester (centre) gives the Beatles some guidance just before shooting one of the sequences on the train" when you hover over it

this is the Method Acting photo. It says "On Thursday 9th April 1964 - Ringo filmed his solo scene on the towpath of the River Thames. 30 years later he revealed that the reason for his impressive acting that day was he had a rough 'night before' !"

This one talks about how March and April of 1964 were pretty cold months.

Photo from a cut scene in the film with Paul (left), Walter Shenson (centre), and Richard Lester (right).

Ringo and Wilfred Brambell (as Pauls Grandfather) being "absolute magnet[s] for the birds"

March 31st and April 1st the Beatles were filmed in front of an audience of screaming fans. Photo from before the fans arrived!

Richard Lester!

The Beatles "waiting for the sun" in between outdoor scenes

Its pretty late so Im ending it for now. I will post the rest another time! Next will be Local Lads Make Good! (I'll hyperlink it here when done)

#rexaid #the beatles #paul mccartney #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr #beatles archive #a hard days night

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aphrogeneias · 1 year ago

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𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞

summary: it's time to face the music.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: angst with a happy ending.

author's note: this was posted originally only a few hours before season four, volume two came out, and we had no clue what eddie's fate would be. nonetheless, here he survives. he saves and is saved, and that's all that matters <3. thank you for reading!

series masterlist

The door was already opened when Steve pulled into your driveway.

If he was honest to himself, Eddie wanted to run away. He was tripping on himself from the moment he stepped out of the car, unsteady legs leading him to the porch, where Max Mayfield sat alone, with her own headphones around her head.

She stood up as she saw them run into the house, and held Eddie's arm as he passed her. He stared at the redhead girl, wide-eyed, as she started talking quietly. "Her tapes are upstairs in her room, we didn't know what to pick so we waited for you. She's, um… Just hurry, okay? There's still time."

Frightened by the hesitation in her voice, all he could do was nod, frantically, as he made his way into the house. Running into the living room, what he saw almost made him break down, knocking the breath out of his chest.

Everyone else was already there, standing around you and Nancy, who were sitting on the floor, your back resting on the couch behind you, while the oldest Wheeler held onto your hand. Your eyes were taken by a pale, milky white color, blinking rapidly, as you stared ahead, vacantly.

Even if he tried, Eddie couldn't put it in words how much it hurt him to see you this way. Broken, spellbound, vulnerable — nothing like the girl he used to know. Without thinking, he surged forward, aching to comfort you, but he was abruptly stopped by Steve, who put himself in front of him, holding him still by the shoulders.

"What are you doing, man?"

"Didn't you hear what Mayfield said? Go get the tape with her favorite song in it. Now!" Steve pushed him back, determination set heavily in his brow.

Stumbling, he walked backwards, still dizzy from shock, struggling between doing what he must and staying by your side, but he knew he was the only one who could help you now, and he would be damned if he failed you now.

His legs carried him up the stairs and into the hallway as if they had a life of their own, running on autopilot. He'd never been to your house, and it felt deeply wrong that these were the circumstances that had him visiting you for the first time. Foolishly, he had imagined coming here in much different situations — late at night, perhaps after a much belated date, holding your body close as you guided him to your room, expectation heavy in the air.

None of that mattered now.

Your bedroom was just like he expected it would be. A large bookshelf covered almost all of the wall opposite to your bed, which was unmade, an old teddy bear forgotten on the floor. He didn't have the time to look carefully at all the art taped to the walls, the pattern of your wallpaper, or the clothes that you'd left on your chair before was kneeling after the bottom shelves, where you kept your tapes, neatly organized.

"Where's the goddamn…", trembling hands checked one by one, throwing them haphazardly on your carpeted floor, "fucking…", until he found it, a white and yellow tape, with the words Please, Please Me written in bold red letters. "Beatles!"

Falling back, he pushed himself up, running back downstairs. Nancy was already holding your walkman when he came in, an eery silence taking over the whole house. Delicately, he took it from her hands, placing in the tape himself, and selecting the thirteenth track, your favorite, "There's a Place".

Sitting in front of you, he placed the headphones on your ears, making sure they were secure and in place. Eddie cradled your face in his hands, leaning it to speak to you, as if you could hear him, as if you were the only two people in the room. "C'mon, baby. I'm here, I'm right here for you, you can do this."

Only a moment after, your body shot up into the air, making him gasp. It was like a sinister deja vu, something he'd seen before and never wished to see again, images of Chrissy now running through his mind like a old movie. He wanted to scream, but he didn't have the strenght to make a sound, eyes glued to your floating body, almost touching the ceiling.

He could hear the others talking around him, but he couldn't make sense of what they were saying. He could feel them pacing, throwing words of encouragement at you, jittery with worry. But Eddie couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't see a thing other than you.

"C'mon, please, I know you can do this."

When a gasp came out of your mouth, body trashing still in the air, time stopped around him.

He watched as you came down, falling on the floor, curling up on yourself. Eddie crawled his way to you, throwing his arms around you as soon as he was close enough to do it, bringing you near. Your breathing was heavy as you clutched to him, "What was that?"

"Long story, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I thought he was going to… I though I was… dead. He was going to win."

Shaking his head, he brought his hands to sides of your face again, resting his forehead on yours. He could see your eyes from up close, the beautiful color of your irises shining again, your breath minglinf with his. "No, we weren't going to let him. He's not gonna win, he's not gonna take you from me."

You closed your eyes, brushing your nose with his, and whispering, "I was so scared. At first I saw…", swallowing hard, your hand squeezed his wrist, but he still held you close, "my father. I didn't understand what he was doing here, but then… it was him. That thing."

Eddie knew there was something you weren't telling him, something more to your vision that you were willing to share, but he didn't care. You were safe, he was able to save you, even though none of that felt real.

"That thing isn't going to get to you anymore. I promise, okay?"

Drawing away to look at him in the eye, and reaching one of your hands to touch his cheek, you gave him a sad smile, "Don't make any promises you can't keep."

"I'm keeping this one, I told you I'd stay, didn't I?"

"For as long as I wanted." You repeated his words. "What if I want to you to stay forever?"

"That's fine by me."

At the end of the day, perhaps, you were the one who saved him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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muzaktomyears · 4 months ago

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John Lennon by his friends and son: ‘He got eight years more than Jesus’

The former Beatle would have been turning 84 this autumn. Now his son Sean and those who knew him best are keeping his spirit alive with the rerelease of his classic solo album Mind Games

Everyone wonders what John Lennon could have become. When he was murdered in New York on December 8, 1980, the 40-year-old was in his post-Beatles prime. The superb album Double Fantasy had just come out and he was plotting a world tour. His second son, Sean, whom he took time off to bring up with his wife, Yoko Ono, was five, and Lennon was feeling inspired. Seven solo records since the Beatles had split ten years earlier; a reconciliation with Paul McCartney.

“Everyone gets the time they get, and he got eight years longer than Jesus,” says Bob Gruen, the rock’n’roll legend who took photographs of everyone who mattered in the 1970s. He captured Lennon and Ono’s time in New York and is confident and chatty — until conversation turns to what Mark Chapman took outside the Dakota that day.

“John should be alive now,” Gruen says, clearly still affected 44 years on. Gruen had spent the weekend with Lennon before he died and was developing his photos when he got the call. “He didn’t die in an accident or of a disease. His death broke my trust in everything. He was grounded at the time. He learnt a lot from raising his son, about enjoying his life and being sober. Then I heard he was dead.”

Lennon would have been 84 in October — and at least we are left with his songs. But legacy is complicated. Over the years McCartney has stolen his crown as chief creative in the Beatles. Partly because Lennon is no longer here to speak. Also because, during Peter Jackson’s 2021 film, Get Back, Lennon was largely stoned, while the charismatic McCartney conjured up magic. So to redress the balance, this month’s innovative rerelease of Lennon’s Mind Games (1973) pushes design and immersion in ways few box sets have before. It features new mixes — some that amplify Lennon’s voice, others that emphasise the instruments.

It is the work of Sean, 48, who has been at the forefront of the Mind Games rerelease. Lennon’s younger son is a musician and artist based in New York near his mother, 91. “The title track is one of the most beautiful songs ever written,” he says.

The songs answer questions Sean never got to ask his father. Despite being very young when his father was around, Sean does have memories of him — talking, watching TV, playing guitar and saying, “Good night, Sean.” The song Aisumasen (I’m Sorry) on the record is an apology from Lennon to Ono.

“One thing that distinguishes my dad’s solo career,” Sean says, “is how personal his lyrics became. It is like a diary, and it is my duty to bring attention to my father’s music. Not just my duty to him, but a duty to the world. With the world as it is now, people have forgotten so many things that I never imagined could be forgotten. I refuse to let that happen to this music — it means too much to me.”

Two years before Mind Games came out, Lennon moved to New York and met Gruen. Living in New York was simpler for him and Ono. They were hounded in Britain. “One paper called Yoko ugly,” Gruen recalls. “But in New York they were just treated as the quirky artists who came to town.”

Gruen’s eyes light up. “He was just funnier than everyone else,” he says. “I’d have loved him on Twitter, he was so cool with one-liners.” He smiles. “And, also, he learnt to cook. I’d always try to go to the Dakota for mealtimes.” What sort of food? “John used to be a meat and potatoes guy, but he met [the actress] Gloria Swanson in the vegetable store and she gave him a book that acted as a way into a macrobiotic diet from a western one. He got really into healthy food, baking vegetables and steaming fish.”

And this is the frustration. In the late 1970s Lennon was cleaning up his act. For himself, for Sean — a son he was involved with, as opposed to his first child, Julian. He had changed, from the man who went on his fabled “Lost Weekend” in Los Angeles in 1973. The weekend actually ran for months, during which Lennon left Ono, on Ono’s suggestion, for their assistant, May Pang, then 23. After Lennon went back to Ono, Pang carried on in the music business and married the producer Tony Visconti, but the Lost Weekend era remains her headline. During that time Lennon enjoyed chaotic recording sessions with Phil Spector. “I wondered if he’d ever make it back to New York,” Gruen says. “I thought he might get a place in Hawaii, or just die.” But Lennon returned in 1974, for his final six years.

What does Gruen think about how Lennon is remembered? Especially in Get Back? “Well, who’s the last one standing?” Gruen scoffs. “Who gets to write the history? The survivors get to write the history. That’s the way it goes.”

Tony King was the vice-president of Apple Records at the time of Lennon’s Lost Weekend. “We’re here to talk about my friend,” he tells me sweetly. King was out in Los Angeles working on a Ringo album when Pang phoned to say that Lennon needed help with his Mind Games record.

“I wasn’t looking forward to it,” King admits. “John could be sharp-tongued. But, in LA, he was super-friendly. I was straightforward. I told him he had to repair his reputation. After Imagine [1971] he’d gone in a different direction, making songs with a political edge. It was quite easy for John to get caught up in things. He had this tendency to see someone, decide he loved them and then go in their direction. I was lucky he went in my direction for a while. He realised he had lost some fans. Mind Games was more what people wanted.” Its songs were simpler and less political.

Personally, however, Lennon was in turmoil. “May on one arm, Yoko on the other!” King says. “He was juggling a lot.” Did Lennon talk about McCartney? “They were not getting along, but he was still fond of him,” King recalls. And what about that Lost Weekend era? “He was off the walls, to be honest.

“We went to Las Vegas and John interrupted Frankie Valli during a show, saying, ‘Get your cock out!’ We got thrown out and on the way back to the hotel he was pissing up against trees and then throwing his chips around the lobby. I put him to bed. It was difficult when he drank. John had taken way too much acid and so when he drank it flipped him into another style of person. One day it was great, the next it was very hard.”

King remembers the night his friend died clearly. “I was out at dinner in LA and the waiter said, ‘He’s dead.’ I returned to a very lonely, sad hotel room.” Does he ever think about what Lennon might have achieved later in his life? “Elton and I talk about John,” King says. He means Elton John. “We say, ‘I wonder what he’d be up to?’ Well, he’d have pounced on the internet and got into AI. And he’d still campaign. I could see him hopping on a plane to see Zelensky. He was a busy person, with an arresting personality. You’re never going to forget him.”

The Mind Games reissue is a beast, a lavish celebration of a fine, melodic rush of songs. Bonuses include the Ultimate Mixes, which bring Lennon’s voice to the fore; Raw Studio Mixes; there is a Super Deluxe Edition “presented in a 13in cube”; puzzles; and even an experience on the free Lumenate app that is described as a “consciousness-expanding psychedelic meditation” and uses the phone’s torch and Lennon’s tunes to guide users into “a state of consciousness between deep meditation and psychedelics”.

We are a long way from 1973 — when the session musicians David Spinozza, on guitar, and Ken Ascher, on keyboards, were asked to play on Mind Games. They recall the recording as efficient — Lennon left his partying for later. He was in a creative peak, with Mind Games his fourth album in three years since the Beatles.

“He was a Beatle!” Ascher says. “I was thrilled to get the call. Yoko told me, around 10pm, that John would like to meet. I called my wife and said, ‘I’m not coming home — I’m meeting John.’ He played me music he liked, and we talked for hours. His humour helped me relax.”

Spinozza worked with Lennon and McCartney in the 1970s. How did the men compare? “Paul would do one song for six hours, even for a day,” he says. “With John we never worked on one song for six hours. He worked quick — he was all business. I’m not saying one was better than the other, but Paul could work on a drum sound for hours. John just wanted to get it done.”

How does Sean feel about his parents, looking back? “Their story is a love story,” he says. “They found each other across a great divide and certainly struggled through ups and downs, but never doubted their love. It is important we remember them as an example. Even through rough patches you can see my father thought about my mother. They were simply, irrevocably intertwined.”

Lovely words — and as for John Lennon himself? “Generally it’s whatever comes out, like diarrhoea,” he once said of his recordings. “A bit personal, a bit political — someone told me Mind Games was Imagine with balls, which I liked. It was like an interim record between being a manic political lunatic back to a musician again.”

Speaking in the early 1970s, after a decade of super-fame, he said he did not feel different to how he had before. “I’m still a bit adolescent,” he said in one of his final interviews. “My old friends from Liverpool got jobs after school. I’d see them six months later and their hair would be thin and they’d be getting fat. They were becoming old men — while I just keep going.”

(source)

#god save me from mainstream beatles articles #still some interesting snippets #john lennon #sean lennon #paul mccartney

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sequinsmile-x · 4 months ago

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Echo

noun /ˈɛkəʊ/

a sound or sounds caused by the reflection of sound waves from a surface back to the listener.

a close parallel to an idea, feeling, or event.

Emily misses her boyfriend, so when an opportunity arises to visit him for the weekend she takes it with both hands, but an unexpected visitor from Aaron's past threatens to derail everything.

A Young Hotchniss oneshot.

-x-

Hi friends,

I posted about this as a vague idea and everyone seemed to love it...so here we are! And as always I got carried away...is anyone surprised at this point?

Special shout out to @eyesontheskyline who helped inspire some of the angstier bits in this haha

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 5k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It was never meant to last longer than the summer.

It was an agreement they’d made that first night, his lips hovering over hers as they hid in a side room in her mother’s house during an event he was supposed to be working. His answer to her breathless statement, her quiet whisper that this couldn’t mean anything long-term, was to kiss her. His hands on her cheeks as his tongue swiped through her mouth, his body firm against hers as she was trapped between him and the wall.

She wanted to do something a little reckless, which sleeping with her mother’s security detail certainly was, and he was relatively fresh out of a long-term relationship, his heart still broken after his high-school sweetheart had ended things with him.

Emily had meant for it to just be sex. She’d had every intention of leaving her mother’s house after summer was over as free and single as she had been when she arrived, but there was something about him that she couldn’t quit. A pull that she didn’t entirely understand that had her hesitating when it was time to leave, her master’s degree at Yale calling her just like his fancy new job for the FBI was calling him. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he was the one to broach the subject, his smile crooked as he told her he’d looked up the drive between New Haven and DC, his eyes shining with something she refused to name as he said he’d drive it every weekend if it meant he got to see her.

Being in a long distance relationship was hard, but he made it easy. Aaron was just as kind and sweet as he always was with her. He sent cards and flowers on the weekends he couldn’t visit, making her friends at Yale vibrate with jealousy over how amazing and thoughtful her boyfriend was. She often found herself missing him in a way that made her feel embarrassed, sure that the version of herself who she’d been just a year ago would roll her eyes at her for how she’d smile when he called her, how she’d sit on the couch wearing his sweater, the phone between her ear and shoulder as they both sat alone and watched a TV show together with hundreds of miles between them.

It felt like life had been kicking her ass lately, relentless classes and papers driving her to the edge, something she was tipped over after a particularly rough conversion with her mother. She was about to call Aaron, sure just talking to him would make him feel better, when she found out all of her Friday classes had been cancelled. She packed a bag and got in her car without thinking about it, the opportunity of a three-day weekend back in DC too good to pass up. It’s only when she’s pulling up outside his apartment building that she wonders if she should have called him first, worried she’d be intruding, the shine of surprising him disappearing in an instant as it’s replaced with a nervousness only he had ever been able to bring out of her.

Any concern she had disappears the second she sees him. Emily’s breath catches in her chest as he opens his apartment door, looking every bit as gorgeous in his sweats and a Beatles t-shirt as he always did in his clean-cut suits, his hair damp from the shower.

“Em?” He asks, his smile wide as he looks her up and down, dimples carved deep in his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

“My classes tomorrow got cancelled,” she says, her grip on her duffle bag over her shoulder tightening, something she could hold onto until she could hold onto him, “And I missed you, so I thought I’d come to see you,” she explains, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as he continues to stare at her, the silence they fall into forcing the anxiety she’d felt earlier back into her chest, “Should I have called fir-”

He’s kissing her before she can finish the question, his lips fierce against hers and his embrace tight around her back as her bag slips to the floor. She groans into his mouth as she wraps her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he holds her impossibly tighter, the toes of her sneakers skimming the worn hallway carpet. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against hers, his smile wide as he stamps another kiss against her lips.

“I missed you too,” he replies, turning with her still in his arms, only setting her back down on the ground when she’s over the threshold and in his apartment, “I lo…I’m so happy to see you.”

They hadn’t said it to each other yet, the three words she liked to think she knew they both felt always on the tip of their tongues. They were gun-shy, her because of the fact she knows she hadn’t loved someone like this before, a part of her worried it would give him some kind of power over her that she wasn’t willing to give him, and he because he’d had his heart broken by the person he thought he’d be with forever. It made them cautious, always skirting around the idea that what was supposed to have been just sex had turned into so much more. Sometimes, she wished he’d just say it so she could say it back, self-aware enough that she knew she’d never say it first.

She presses her lips together to try and contain her smile as she watches him grab her bag from the hallway, her stomach flipping as her gaze drifts to the muscles in his arms, how they shift under his skin as he hooks her bag over his shoulder. He clears his throat and raises his eyebrow at her, letting her know she was caught out, and she narrows her eyes, well aware he’d be a little less smug once he saw some of the underwear she’d had packed for the weekend.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she says, closing the gap and kissing him, smiling when he gasps as she scratches her nails across his head, “I brought some textbooks so I can study whilst you’re at work tomorrow.”

He scoffs, hauling her up into his arms, smiling at her squeal as she wraps her legs around his waist, “Oh sweetheart, I am calling in sick tomorrow.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and raises her eyebrows in disbelief, familiar joy that he had always been able to draw out of her sparking in her chest, “You’re going to call in sick? Mr perfect attendance record?”

No more than a month after he’d started his new job and she’d gone back to college, he’d come down with the flu - a fact he’d desperately tried to hide from her. When she found out he’d gone to work any way she’d been furious and overnighted him chicken soup, her skin itching at the thought that she couldn’t be there to look after him. It was one of the first moments she realised that she was in love with him, the desire to drop everything and make sure he stayed in bed until he was better so overwhelming it had knocked her off kilter for a few days.

“What can I say,” he says, his hands on her ass as he starts to walk them towards his bedroom, “You’re clearly a bad influence on me.”

She scoffs, but it’s swallowed down by him as he leans forward, his lips against hers shutting off her brain to anything except him and his wondering hands.

___

She chuckles as he kisses her neck, a shiver passing through her body as she turns her head, his lips catching the corner of hers.

“We need to eat,” she murmurs, smiling as he kisses her again, his hand grasping at her waist as he shifts closer, the span of his hand skimming both her ribs and her hip.

“I’m planning on it,” he replies, his words muttered against her neck as he moves downwards, his intentions clear as his hand slips down to her thigh, his warm palm drawing a shiver out of her. She laughs and pushes at his shoulder, her smile wide as their eyes meet.

“I’m serious,” she says, pushing her fingers through his hair, “I’m starving.”

He can’t help but smile at her, love he still struggled to say outloud caught in his chest, warm and cloying as it makes it hard to breathe.

When he met her he never could have known how important she’d end up being to him, he never could have guessed that her smile would help pave over the cracks in his heart. Looking back on it, he thinks he should have known better. He’d never been someone to have casual sex, before Emily he’d only ever slept with Haley, but there was something about Emily that had drawn him in from the start. Poorly hidden mischief in her smile and a spark in her eyes that made her stand out in a house full of sharp suits and sensible conversation that he couldn’t resist, his final piece of self-restraint snapping when she’d pulled him into a side room during a party, her smile irresistible as she told him it would just be for the summer.

It was reassuring that she hadn’t been able to stick to that obvious lie either. That she had missed him enough in the two weeks since they’d last seen each other to drive here on a whim, her smile as shy as he’d ever seen it when he opened his apartment door last night. They’d spent the day in bed together, only getting up for a late breakfast that he’d made for her in the early afternoon. She’d sat on the counter next to him as he cooked, wearing only his t-shirt with one of her legs around his waist, exchanging kisses in between bites of pancakes and bacon that he fed to her.

He kisses her cheek, his response murmured against her skin, “I ordered pizza when you were in the bathroom. It should be here soon.”

She beams at him, her hands on his cheeks as she drags him in for a kiss, “You might actually be the perfect man.” She climbs out of bed, stretching as she does so, her muscles aching deliciously before she reaches for his discarded t-shirt, scrunching her nose up as she looks at the Beatles album cover printed on the front of it, “Although, your taste in music leaves a lot to be desired.”

He shakes his head as he stands up, tugging his sweatpants up over his hips before he pulls her into his arms, his hands framing her waist, “You can make fun of the Beatles as much as you want, Em. I’ve seen the pictures from your punk phase.”

She groans, but her response is cut off by a knock at the door, “I’ll get the pizza.”

He grumbles as he walks over to the closet, pulling another t-shirt out of it before he follows her out into the living area, “If that pizza delivery guy tries to flirt with you again I’m having him fired.”

She laughs as she reaches into her purse, pulling out her wallet, purposely leaning over a little more than necessary before she looks over her shoulder at him and winks, “Oh yes, if there’s one thing I love more than hot FBI agents it’s college freshman who deliver pizza to make weed money.”

She smiles as she opens the apartment door, her hand already held out to take the pizza. Her face drops when she looks up and doesn’t see the pizza guy, her smile melting away when her eyes meet those of a blonde woman she’d only ever seen pictures of, the other woman’s eyes wide as she looks Emily up and down, who was suddenly incredibly aware of the fact she was only wearing a large t-shirt.

Emily couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t something she’d been worried about, that the reappearance of the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a fear she’d had since she’d fallen for Aaron. She tugs at the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing, desperately trying to make it cover more of her thighs, and she clears her throat, her mouth opening but no words coming out, feeling oddly at an advantage because she knew who the other woman was, but at a disadvantaged because she was practically naked. Time slows down as Aaron appears behind her, his hand on her hip as he steps in front of her, providing her with some cover, his eyebrows furrowed as he finally breaks the silence and says something.

“Haley?”

Haley nods, her lips pressed together as she looks back and forth between the two of them, her eyebrow raised, “Hi Aaron,” she says, her eyes flicking back to Emily before they land on him, a fake smile he recognised from when they were teenagers and she used to try and act brave in front of her parents, “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

The silence that follows is awkward, and Emily can’t tell if she’s pleased or offended that Aaron can’t seem to bring himself to introduce her to his ex-girlfriend. She clears her throat, her jaw tight as she skims her hand over his back, her smile fleeting as he turns to look at her, “I’m going to go put some pants on,” she says, flicking her eyes between him and Haley, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Her attempt to step away pulls him out of the shocked silence he’d fallen into, and he grabs her wrist, his eyes meeting hers as she stops barely a pace away from him, “Emily-”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” she says, even though it felt anything but, her heart sinking into her stomach, “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

She flashes a tight smile at Haley, who is still standing in the hallway, and walks towards the bedroom, her hands tugging down the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing to make sure her ass is covered. Aaron sighs when he hears the bedroom door close, the echo of it loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, the slam reverberating back and forth between his past and his present.

“So…” Haley says, drawing his attention back to her, “Emily.”

He steps back to let her into the apartment, not wanting to air his private business to any of his neighbours who may be listening in, his grip tight on the door handle as he clenches his jaw, “Haley.”

“She seems nice,” she says, looking around the apartment they’d once shared, at the spaces where pictures of the two of them used to sit. She turns to look at Aaron, her arms tight over her chest, “I mean she’s young, was she even in middle school when we met?”

“Haley,” he says again, more warning in his voice this time, well aware that Emily would be able to hear everything from the next room, the walls of his apartment as thin as his patience, his every nerve on edge at the sudden reappearance of his ex-girlfriend, “That’s enough.”

Haley blows out a breath, nodding as she looks down at the ground, giving herself a moment to gather herself as she tightens her grip on her own triceps, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I…” she clears her throat as she looks up at him, “I don’t know what I was expecting when I came here tonight but it certainly wasn’t a gorgeous brunette answering the door wearing a t-shirt that I bought you.”

He places his hands on his hips and nods, accepting her apology wordlessly. Haley had never been cruel or mean, far from it. Her kindness was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. A bright spot in his chaotic life as a teenager, a much needed escape from his turbulent home life, a reminder that he had more waiting for him as soon as he was old enough to escape. He knew that’s why it hurt so much when she broke up with him, tears shining in her eyes as she gave him the ring back, her lower lip trembling as she told him she knew they wanted different things, things that, in the long run, were likely to tear them apart anyway.

“Why are you here, Haley?” He hates how his voice shakes, how heartbreak he thought he’d fixed is still just beneath the surface, “You moved out. You broke up with me,” he chokes as he shakes his head, “I’ve moved on. I…you can’t just come back here and what, want to go back to where we were?”

The way she looks away, her eyes fixed on a picture on the wall of him and Emily, one he’d asked a stranger to take of the two of them on his most recent trip to New Haven, lets him know he’s got it in one. Despite the ache in his chest, the space he thought she’d always occupy, he realises that not one part of him wants to take her up on it.

“I thought…” she shakes her head, “I don’t know what I thought. I missed you, that’s all,” she looks at him, the smile he’d once imagined their children would have flickering across her face, “I guess I thought we’d figure it out.”

He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing together, “I haven’t heard from you in close to a year.”

She nods, her lips pressed together as she laughs humourlessly, “And you never came after me,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “I thought you would.”

“Oh,” he raises his eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders loosening, a wry laugh breaking free from his chest, shattering any remaining ache her departure from his life had left behind, “I did not get that at all.”

She laughs too, a sound he never thought he’d hear again and she shakes her head at herself, “I guess I wasn’t the one you were meant to follow,” she steps forward and hugs him. It takes a moment for him to reciprocate, his arms stiff at his side before he wraps them around her. He hates her shampoo smells different, a final reminder that they no longer belonged to each other, and as he pulls back it feels like even more of a goodbye than their break up, a finality to it that he could accept, “Can I give you some advice?”

He smiles, “Would you stop even if I said no?”

She rolls her eyes and slaps his shoulder, “Sometimes, you need to chase after what you want, Aaron,” she says, her eyes drifting back towards the bedroom, to the room with the bed she’d helped pick out, “Or who you want.”

She steps back, putting some space between them, “I should go,” she says, turning her back on him and heading towards the door. She looks at him over her shoulder as she pulls it open, “Goodbye Aaron.”

He’s surprised at how easy it is to watch her leave this time, no words stuck in his chest as there had been almost a year ago, no pieces of his heart to pick up off the floor, something he knows is everything to do with the woman currently hiding in his bedroom. He barely has a moment to think about what’s happened, to get over the strange turn of events that evening, before there’s a knock on the still open door.

“Pizza?”

He sighs and picks up his wallet, pulling the door open entirely to reveal the teenage delivery boy, “How much?”

He smiles at him, his eyes wide as he looks back and forth between him and the hallway Haley had disappeared down, “Dude, how many girlfriends do you have?”

He raises his eyebrows and has to suppress a smile when the kid opposite him suddenly looks like he’s going to crap his pants, immediately clearing his throat, “$10, please. Sir.”

___

She’s never been more grateful that she remembered to pack her Discman. She tucks it under her arm as she hastily packs, her headphones blasting her favourite Siouxsie and the Banshees so loudly the sound is tinny, the music every bit as awful to listen to as her parents had always claimed it was. It’s better than listening to whatever conversation Aaron is having with Haley out in the living room, the only bit she had heard, the fact she’d been wearing a shirt Haley had bought for him, enough to make her stomach turn.

She’d taken it off, changing into her own clothes before she’d started charging around his room, pulling anything that belonged to her off of the shelves as she listens to Silly Thing on repeat, not wanting to leave a trace of herself behind.

She jumps when she turns and sees him standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed as she pulls her headphones off her head, the tinny music still blasting from them as they hook around her neck.

“Pizza’s here,” he says, looking at her bag on his bed, “Where are you going?”

She clears her throat and tears her headphones off entirely, switching off the Discman as she stuffs it into the side pocket of her duffel, “A hotel,” she says, sniffing, forcing back emotions that she doesn’t want to show in front of him, desperate to hold herself together until she’s in her car, “It’s too late to drive home and I don’t want to be in the way.”

He tries to stop her from getting past him but she’s faster than him, slipping free of his embrace before he can even wrap his hand around her arm, “You don’t want to be in the way of what?”

“You and Haley,” she replies, slipping her shoes on, ignoring that it’s his socks she’s wearing, so focused on getting out of there, on not letting him see her break, that she doesn’t realise they are alone, “I know this is what you’ve been waiting for and I’m not going to stand in the way.”

She’d never been enough, not for anyone. Not for her parents, not for the groups of friends she’d never quite fit in with. In the end, she hadn’t even been enough for Matthew, the shared trauma of what she’d gone through in Rome had turned him away from her and to the addiction he was still in the grip of even now. She felt stupid for letting herself believe that this time she was enough, that the way he looked at her was something close to the love she was now grateful she hadn’t admitted to.

She’d get over it, she always did. She’d move on, her armour even stronger than before, reforged over the chink he’d left in it. She sighs when he gets in between her and the door, her fingers pushing through her hair as she feels her breath catch in her chest, her heart cracking in two as she curses herself for ever letting his get so far, for breaking the promise she’d made herself that first night.

“Please let me go,” she says, her voice shaking in a way he’d never heard before, and the pieces fall into place. Her hurried packing, the headphones she’d had on when he walked into his bedroom, the loud noise she called music audible even across the room.

It’s a reflection of when Haley left him, confusion and pre-emptive heartbreak mixing in his gut until he feels nauseous. It renders him speechless for a moment until he remembers Haley’s parting words.

“Sometimes, you need to chase after what you want, Aaron.”

He can’t watch Emily leave, doesn’t even want to give her the chance to be chased, and he reaches forward, his hand finally wrapping around her arm, tugging her closer so she can’t leave, her hand slipping from the door handle.

“Aaron, please-”

“Haley left,” he says, watching as her eyes go wide as she looks around the apartment, “She’s gone.”

“Wh..what?” She chokes out, her bravado fading by the second as she tries to see if he was lying, “She’s gone?”

He nods, happy when she lets him take her bag from her shoulder, lowering it to the ground between them, “She’s gone. Did you…did you think I’d break up with you? Just like that?”

She closes her eyes, embarrassment flooding through her, her cheeks burning with it as she looks down at the ground, “How often does the woman you love just reappear in your life?”

He feels a flash of anger aimed at himself, and anyone who came before him who ever made her feel like she was nothing short of extraordinary. He promises himself there and then that he’ll make sure she knows just how amazing she is, how much she’s worth for the rest of his life if she’ll let him.

“Emily,” he breathes out her name like a prayer as he cups her chin, his finger hooked under it as he encourages her to look at him, the words he’d been holding for weeks, any reason he had for doing so seeing silly now, finally escaping, “I love you.”

She stares at him for a moment, at a loss for words as she licks her lower lip, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to think of something to say, “What?”

He smiles, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, his hand hooking around the back of her neck to hold her in place, “I love you, Emily Prentiss,” he says, his smile getting wider when she chokes on a breath, her hands finally moving from her sides and grasping his t-shirt, “I loved Haley, but that was in my past. You’re my present,” he pulls back to look at her properly, “And, if you want to be, my future.”

She shakes her head at him before she leans in to kiss him, her hands buried in his hair as she puts everything into it, everything she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have in the few minutes he’d spoken to his ex.

“I love you too,” she replies as she pulls back just enough to speak, stamping her lips against his again, “I love you,” she kisses him once more, “I’m sorry I’m an idiot.”

He frowns and pulls back, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “Hey, don’t speak about the woman I love like that.”

She presses her lips together and nods, her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, “I think the pizza will have gone cold.”

“I don’t care,” he replies, stamping a kiss against her lips before he encourages her towards the couch, grabbing the pizza box from the counter before they sit down. She curls against his side and he places the pizza in his lap, opening the box before he takes a slice, grimacing as he has a bite, “Oh yeah, it is cold.”

She hums as she reaches for a slice, her head against his shoulder as she starts to eat, “I think you’d be horrified at how big a part of my diet cold pizza is.”

He shakes his head and turns it to kiss her temple, “When you’re done with college I’ll make sure you eat actual meals.”

She smiles, the implication that it meant they’d be living together not lost on her. She doesn’t broach the subject, the unexpecting love confession after the reappearance of the woman he was once engaged to enough of a shift in their relationship for one night. But she knows the idea of taking that step with him doesn’t scare her, that she sees a future with him just as much as he apparently sees one with her.

“I am sorry,” she says, smiling shyly when their eyes meet, “For making an assumption. I should have spoken to you about it instead of trying to leave.”

He shakes his head, his spare hand on her knee, squeezing the joint through her leggings, “You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m sure I would have thought the same thing if our roles were reversed.”

She hums, not sure that the examples were truly comparable. Her only other ex that had been semi-serious was a professor she’d dated during her undergrad, a man old enough that it scandalised her parents. They’d never been serious, and certainly nothing close to Aaron’s relationship with Haley, but she’d still been sad when he’d called things off, replacing her with a freshman as she started her senior year.

“I didn’t even ask how you felt seeing her,” she says, picking up another slice of pizza, “It can’t have been easy.”

He thinks about it, not sure he’d really had the chance to process it beyond the fact it had happened, “It wasn’t,” he admits, “But I think it was necessary,” he says, his smile genuine, “It was the closure I needed.”

She runs her fingers through his hair when he stops there, everything else he still can’t put into words stuck in his throat.

“I’m glad,” she replies, “If you want to talk about it, I hope you know you can talk about it to me,” she says, a teasing edge to her smile, “Since we’re in love with each other and all.”

He laughs and kisses her, “I know.”

They lapse into an easy silence, pressed up against each other as they continue to eat their cold pizza. She eventually breaks it, “Baby?”

He hums, the nickname she rarely used warming him from the inside out, “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’m buying you a bunch of t-shirts, you’re wearing them once and then I’m stealing them back,” she says, her expression letting him know just how much of his conversation with Haley she had heard, “Okay?”

He clears his throat to suppress a laugh, but he’s unable to stop his smile, and he nods, stamping his lips against hers,

“Okay.”

-x-

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13eyond13 · 3 months ago

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Hey Bloz! How r u? I cannot even begin to express how fun it’s been to see ur Beatles posts on my dash. the minute I saw the Real Love demo I was like ok… she’s fallen down the rabbit hole XD I was fixated on them last year for a good few months. It was a lot of fun reading about them, watching their movies, and reading fan analyses online. There’s so much out there! And Beatles rpf is a whole world unto itself lol at first I was skeptical of it but then… I was intrigued haha

Do u have any fave songs or albums? :)

Omg hello Jess!! I miss you and it's so nice to hear from you 🫂

Hahaha YES I'm pretty deep into The Beatles lore rabbit hole already, it's been my main fixation for entertainment for the past month or so. You're right, there's just so much to dig into. Caught me totally by surprise, I feel like I'm so late to the game to just be having a Beatles phase now... I never felt extremely interested in learning about them before, but a randomly recommended YouTube video (x) about how it's reductive to blame the band's breakup solely on Yoko Ono drew me into this whole fascination a few weeks back.

😆 And hah, you must have sent this ask to me right before I deleted that "Real Love" demo reblog, because I thought I'd better delete it after I looked in the notes of the post and saw the OP wasn't taking kindly to anybody questioning if John was actually giggling instead of sobbing there (which is what I think he was doing, personally... but it still sounded like he was writing something about Paul? 🤷‍♀️ idk, doesn't need to be crying for it to still be a bit of an eyebrow raiser, imo)

I haven't actually really looked into any rpf yet, just digesting the "canon" material and whatnot (listening chronologically to their discography and not completely finished with that yet, up to halfway through the White album rn). Been watching their movies and behind the scenes stuff and documentaries (the Get Back one by Peter Jackson was fascinating even for a relatively new fan to watch, imo), reading a bigass biography about them (Tune In by Mark Lewisohn, it's like this great slowburn real-time mosey through the band's childhoods and earliest days together), and watching the occasional YouTube video deep dives (this one series in particular is p beautifully made and impressively researched and really got me in the feels regarding the shippy theories about J&P: [x])

As for my faves of their music, I haven't finished listening to 100% of their albums yet, BUT right now I'm actually very partial to some of their earliest records. I feel like some of their more normie stuff from the early 60s is actually the most fantastic fun to listen to, and Please Please Me and A Hard Day's Night might be the two albums with the most bangers that I never want to skip so far. Their more experimental and psychedelic and surreal later stuff is also interesting and arguably more unique and groundbreaking or creative or whatever, but I'm not as familiar with them outside of the main extremely famous tracks on them yet, and I'll need to finish listening and let them grow on me a bit before I can probably say for sure. However I think so far my faves from their later stuff would probs be Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, and possibly the White Album (once I actually finish listening to it).

John is definitely my favourite Beatle, which was actually a complete surprise to me, I thought he'd be my least fave. And there are so many good bops that it's hard to narrow it down, but some of my personal faves so far are I Saw Her Standing There, I Should Have Known Better, I Want to Hold Your Hand, It Won't be Long, A Hard Day's Night, Do You Want to Know a Secret, Oh! Darling, I Want You (She's So Heavy) and If I Fell... hmm, I think maybe I'm just kinda a sucker for their simple and enthusiastic and joyful love songs the most, usually?

Thank you for sending me this sweet ask! I'd love to hear what some of your faves are too 🧡

#ask #pika-cthuluuuuu #p

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thisapplepielife · 9 months ago

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All Across the Universe: Chapter One

Rating: Eventual E | CW: Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence | Tags: Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, Time Travel Fix-It, Blundering Through History, Platonic Stobin, Revolving Door of Characters, Mixed Media

limitless undying love, which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe, Across the Universe, The Beatles

1987

Steve is comfortable on his back, laying against the trunk of his car, looking up at the night sky, when he sees a shooting star rush across the vastness of space. It was right there in front of him a second ago, and then gone in the blink of an eye.

Like it maybe never existed at all.

It was pretty, the few moments he got to spend looking at it, and he wishes Robin could have seen it.

Hell, he wishes Eddie could have seen it.

The last thing Eddie saw was that awful, bat-infested, red sky of the Upside Down, and that’s a fucking shame. Steve quickly thinks: I wish we'd had more time. I wish you'd gotten a different ending, a different life. I wish I could have fixed this.

But he can't fix this. They didn't have more time. And Eddie barely got to live at all. They came up with a plan on the fly, a little too unprepared, and Eddie didn’t come home at the end of the night. And as much as Steve hates it, regrets it. That can't be undone.

Steve can never unsee Eddie's body on the ground, can never unsee Dustin crouched over him, protectively. Dustin tried. Steve tried. Nancy tried. Robin tried. Nothing they did was gonna change it.

Eddie was just gone, and they couldn’t fix that.

They were too late.

And it can't be fixed that the gates started closing before they figured out a way to bring him back through. To bring his body home. It's a regret Steve lives with every damn day. You don't leave a man behind, and he did exactly that. Against his will, maybe, but it still happened on his watch and he feels like that's on him.

Robin was screaming, pulling on him. Trying desperately to drag him along with her, trying to get him to let go of Eddie's body. He didn't want to give up, and he was barely hearing Robin, or Nancy, as they were both yelling at him to come on, right now. Nancy kept turning her head, screaming at him, as she helped walk a limping Dustin towards the trailer. Steve thinks that Robin may not have been able to get him to stop trying to lift Eddie, if they hadn’t used Dustin as the reason he had to go, had to move. Now.

Something was happening, and it felt like the beginning of an earthquake. Small tremors, rolling under their feet. Steve stood, barely able to keep his balance. Taking one last look at Eddie, in apology. In sorrow.

In regret, for what would never be. For Eddie. For any of them.

Eddie had cut the sheet, and now Dustin needed help getting back up and through the gate, and the girls couldn’t do it alone. So, Steve went. Followed them, helped. Found a step stool and pushed each of them up through the gate, and back into the real world.

He'd turned, and looked towards the door, considering.

And Robin had been standing there, above him, crying. Begging him to just come through. Hand stretched out, holding the remnants of tied together sheets for him to grab. He stepped down one rung on the ladder, and she had shrieked at the same time the ground buckled, groaning, as it got ready to give way, and he grabbed a hold of the sheet, and pulled himself through.

They crawled out of the trailer in the real world, just as it started to split, getting devoured by the fiery earth below.

And that was that.

They had a war to fight, to win.

And they did.

Vecna is gone, but so is Eddie.

And now the shooting star is long gone, too.

Steve looks at the stars left behind, just like him.

But maybe Eddie did see it, somewhere. Steve's learned that nothing is impossible. Not now. Things happen that can't be explained. Walls open in bedrooms and monsters crawl out. There can be tunnels underground, well-worn paths just for monsters to travel deep beneath your feet.

And there can be a gate at the bottom of a lake that greedily sucks you under, and spits you back out into hell.

Weird shit happens in this world, that's just a fact.

So, there's no reason he couldn't believe that Eddie saw that shooting star, somewhere else, in space and time.

But Steve doesn't believe that, not really, but for a brief moment he can pretend he does. He really wants to believe that somewhere, in some other universe, Eddie was looking up at the same night sky. One that wasn’t red, wasn’t bleeding with the color of devastation, of evil. One that was full of bright, beautiful stars. Full of potential. Of a life yet unlived, undreamed, with endless possibilities laid out before him.

Eddie was only twenty years old. He hadn't really lived life, not yet. Hadn't got the chance to see the world, to see that there are things beyond the narrow-minded confines of Hawkins, Indiana.

Steve's twenty now, too. Almost twenty-one. His birthday came and went, with little fanfare. No longer a teenager. He's caught up to Eddie, and very soon, he'll surpass him.

He swallows, trying to shove the emotion of that realization down.

It's been a hard year, harder than any of the others.

Because Steve’s become fixated, canonizing this man he barely knew. Robin has tried, desperately, to get him to stop obsessing. To let the guilt subside. He doesn't know Eddie Munson. Not really. And now he never will.

And that's a whole bunch of horseshit.

He feels a strange pulling in his stomach, and before can even sit up, he pops out of existence.

they tumble blindly, as they make their way across the universe Across the Universe, The Beatles

Continue reading on AO3.

#fic: all across the universe #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #time travel #time travel fix it #stranger things #time keeps on slipping slipping slipping #into the future #or the past #time isn't picky #robin buckley #gareth stranger things

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japage3moondog · 1 year ago

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Would you ever consider doing Help! John headcanons?

hii anon!! so i distinctly remember writing some sort of help! john headcanons but it turns out they were just dating ones based on it and also it was like my first post so it was trash. so re-do!!!!

help! john is possibly the most snarky iteration of john in all of the beatles cinematic universe. he's constantly cracking jokes to cope with all the nonsense that's happening around him. he does his best to charm you with his humour but his version of flirting is making fun of you so it doesn't always hit.

he's type of guy to start playing songs if he's even in the same room as a guitar. he loves the idea of playing you romantic love songs and totally serenading you. he doesn't like sharing his songs unless he's really proud of them so he gets a little sensitive if you don't like them. he goes through phases where he's really into one particular song and listens to it over and over, won't stop playing it, talking about it, etc. if you hear him humming a tune you know you won't stop hearing it until the sound makes him physically ill.

he feels most confident in his suit but he hasn't got the hang of ironing yet so some of his suit will be smooth but parts will look like he's been rolling around on the floor. don't bring up the iron burns. you help him iron occasionally and get him a clothes steamer because it's easier to use but sometimes you can still crinkles on the hems.

he has to trim his man bangs every couple days to keep it the exact length he likes. you'll be in bed, waiting him to come sleep and see him in the bathroom with nail scissors carefully cutting away. he refuses to see a barber for such a miniscule cut but he does stop doing it so late at night so he doesn't disturb you as much.

as a logic-based guy, he doesn't understand why ringo isn't willing to cut off his finger to save his own life so he gets very frustrated sometimes. it's a very stressful situation and he ends up arguing with the guys a lot. he tries to stay away from you until he's more calm to avoid taking it out on you. it's easier for him to regulate when he's around you because you help him rationalise and ground himself but he's still anxious he might do something to push you away. having ringo facing off against death puts the thought of losing his loved ones in john's head so he's just pretty jittery in general.

#john lennon x reader #the beatles x reader

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adverbian · 1 year ago

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My fanfiction over on AO3. All Good Omens (TV continuity), Aziraphale/Crowley. (Updated 17 Oct 2024)

(As always, check tags on AO3 for content notes!)

All Your Life (T, 2942 words, oneshot)

In which, sharing a cottage on the South Downs, they gradually find their way to themselves, and to each other. Soft and sweet and musical. A birthday gift for @gaiaseyes451 .

Horn of Plenty (E, 2931 words, oneshot) — co-written with @malachitegrey and @voluptatiscausa

Fluff and Crack. Crowley runs an ice cream parlor. Also he has horns. Also he and Aziraphale are in love. A birthday gift for MimiRay.

That Certain Night (E, 8670 words, 4/4 chapters)

Three nights together during wartime, and one night together after. Angst with a happy ending. 1941, 1967, Night at Crowley’s Flat, and a sweet, smutty South Downs epilogue. A birthday gift for @voluptatiscausa .

(More under the cut!)

This Most Balmy Time and Stay Me With Flagons (both E, each 100 words)

A pair of smutty birthday drabbles for @cemeteryangel725 .

Nothing Lasts Forever (G, 108 words)

A post-S2 meditation on narrative arcs, astronomy, and love — but make it a sonnet. (Written for a poetry game in the Good Omens After Dark Writers Guild. Prompt: “Starmaker”)

Gibraltar May Tumble (E, 8539 words)

A little first-time light bondage on a rainy South Downs afternoon, with feelings and tenderness and love. (A gift fic for @sapientmanbuncountrymare written as part of the Good Omens After Dark Pride Exchange)

Bear You on the Breath of Dawn (T, 100 words)

They’ve had an argument — their first since they moved into their cottage together. They’re still not very good at talking. But this time, they both stay. (A drabble.)

Da Pacem (M, 341 words)

A sestina about stopping the Second Coming with your secret lover, using the key words “night, time, glass, light, tide, stars.”

Is This Desire? (E, 15.5k words, 2/2 chapters)

A smutty, sex-pollened meditation on desire and consent. (Written for the High Pollen Count Good Omens Sex Pollen Event.)

Confiteor (M, 3k words, 1/1 chapter)

Aziraphale goes on a guilt trip. Crowley brings him back home. (Angst with a happy ending.)

Exsultet (E, 6k words, 3/3 chapters)

They’d won. But there were some things left to lose. (And there were some victories still to come.) (A gift fic for @crowleyslvt written as part of the Good Omens Song and Poetry Exchange)

In contenti e in allegria (E, 5k words, 2/2 chapters)

Completely shameless PWP, honeymoon in Paris edition. (A gift fic for @and-his-hands-were-24-crows in the Good Omens After Dark Valentine’s Exchange)

O You and Me at Last (E, 4k words, 1/1 chapters)

News of one of Aziraphale’s past admirers has Crowley feeling a little… possessive. (Written for the Good Omens After Dark Smut War)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (E, 5k words, 3/3 chapters)

Crowley’s been giving Aziraphale space to adjust to being on his own, finally free of Heaven. Now, a gorgeous American philanthropist has started hanging around the bookshop. Has Crowley left things Too Late? (Spoiler alert: There’s a very happy resolution.) (Gift fic for IUsedToBeGifted177 in the Good Omens After Dark Christmas Exchange)

Small Things Like Reasons (M, 4k words, 7/7 chapters)

An exploration of six competing meta theories against the backdrop of the Rapture.

These, Thy Gifts (M, 100 words)

Crowley gives thanks for a feast. (A smutty Thanksgiving drabble.)

Revolver (T, 200 words)

Sometime in the late 1960s or early 1970s, Crowley tried to introduce Aziraphale to the Beatles. It went about like you’d expect. (A double drabble with hands thirst.)

Series: Auprès de ma blonde

(Each item in the series can be read independently.)

General vibes: Ineffable Honeymoon. Everything is terribly sweet and romantic. Lots of Feelings. There are literary and musical allusions.

(Individual works in the series under the cut! Dorothy Sayers fans will instantly clock the first two titles. Yes, there are Wimsey vibes.)

one more river (and that’s the river of jordan) (E, 5k words, 3/3 chapters)

They are alone now — they are free. They are both nervous, but eager, newlyweds.

Auprès de ma blonde, qu’il fait bon dormir (E, 2k words, 1/1 chapters)

The morning after “one more river.”

What We Think About When We Think About Each Other (E, 4k words, 6/6 chapters)

Five times they swapped fantasies, and one time they started learning to share.

Songs and Sonnets (E, 2k words, 1/1 chapters)

A little bit of exploration that gets surprisingly emotional.

That the One Ought To Have of the Other (T, 1k words, 1/1 chapters)

Marriage vows considered as a formal contract, and negotiated with feelings.

Set Me as a Seal Upon Your Heart (E, 12k words, 4/4 chapters)

The Ineffable Husbands make it official. And formal contracts between supernatural entities have a way of becoming particularly real.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #my writing #pinned post

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crepesuzette2023 · 9 months ago

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Your account is honestly such a blessing. I’ve found so many good Mclennon fics because of you it’s actually insane. Now for my ask, what are some good AU Mclennon fics ?

Thank you for asking! I already listed a few AU stories in my overall faves post, e.g., under J/P without the Beatles—but I didn't really focus on fully realized, different-time-different-place-different-everything-AU stories. Here are a few I loved:

in our house we never get bored (@backbenttulips): The Beatles live in a polyamorous marriage à la sedoretu (Ursula LeGuin). Enchanting and enchanted. Soothing.

a great threat (@pauls1967moustache). Yoko is a woman and an artist, and so is Paul. Theirs is the superior battle for John Lennon's apple. A battle for each other, really. I can't overstate how much this works for me. They compete for fame and artistic collaboration, not for anyone's half-hard dick. This feels like the real Paul/Yoko dynamic in many ways.

@saint-mona: You Gave Me the Word. 1958. John is troubled after his mother's death, and befriends Paul, a bookstore owner who shares a past with Julia. Paul and John become friends—and more? Sensual and tender. Younger John & older Paul are good for each other.

snugglesweaters: You Might As Well Arsk: Hilarious, uplifting, and profound epistolary/email modern AU, with excellent (written) supporting turns by Ivan and George. It does take a fucking village.

@dailyhowl: Sleeping Sand, Morning Moon : On the other end of the tonal spectrum, this is a long, dreamy and wintery novella about grieving London playwright Paul and Scottish village eccentric John, and their long, slow way to each other. Set in 1966. Contains a surprising core of Paul & Brian, and very interesting memories of Paul/Ian.

Only a Northern Song (@stonedlennon): 1963, Liverpool: Paul works in a record store (yes, for Mr. Brian), and John is a dock worker and poet. They find each other. A long, long time after reading this, I can still 'hear' the two of them talking to each other.

Thank you @javelinbk for pointing me to and why the sea is boiling hot (madamboogie)—a reincarnation fic set starting in the late 90's. I'm only a few chapters in, but it's interesting and different!

Speaking of: @javelinbk also wrote many great AU's: John and Paul as the two nice men at the flowershop (Double Fantasy), Paul as wealthy business man, and reluctant #1 son, with John as his hot mess driver (The Life of Riley), John and Paul as stepbrothers after Jim gets married to Mimi (Brother Dearest with the follow-up I love even more, because it's melancholy and romantic and complicated, and it has Mike McCartney: Father and Son)—but a recent favorite is Our Version of Events, in which John Lennon is introduced to Beatles fan fiction by May Pang, and has questions for Paul. Set in '71. I love how this one is both an ode to fan fiction and a damn good story (with a non-tropey ending).

I also enjoyed many AU stories by @unchaineddaisychain. For instance: You've Got to Pick Up Every Stitch (Halloween! Modern AU, Paul is John's boyfriend for the night to stick it to John's ex, very sweet morning after), We are Stardust (Brit Paul and NYer John meet at Woodstock in '69, and it's so fucking romantic), and These Nights (modern AU, slightly jaded rock journalist John unexpectedly spends a night with rising pop star Paul. Cold shower, please!)

#asks #fic recs #au fic recs #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction

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fvckingwolfstar · 2 months ago

Text

Use Your Words

pairing: fem!john lennon x fem!paul mccartney

summary: Joan and Paul reminisce and freak it

genre: Smut!

wc: 1926

cw: theyre women, this is lesbian smut. oral sex, fingering, teasing, smoking

author’s note: probably won’t be posting much more smut about hozier. I’m hyper fixating on the beatles right now and need them to get freaky as women. I don’t think that’s crazy

masterlist

smut under the cut

Joan closed the door behind her after Paul walked into their shared hotel room. Paulie groaned and fell back on the bed, stretching her arms up over her head, “Long fucking night,” she said with a yawn.

Joan hummed and fell on the bed next to her. “You have your own bed, you know,” Paul teased, her eyes closing as she tried to rest.

“I can’t lie with you after a show, Paulie?” the older girl asked, shoving her side softly. They’ve been touring for a month now, and the cycle of drinking and going to bed with a random groupie was becoming exhausting. George and Ringo went off to the bar while the other two decided to go back to the hotel.

Joan scooted in closer to her, propping her head up on her hand, “Paul,” she prodded, poking her cheek. Paul opened her eyes and tried to glare up at Joan, failing to find the energy to pretend to be angry.

“What, Joan?”

“I got an extra spliff from Bob,” she smiled, “let’s split it.”

Paul considered for a moment, before sitting back up, Joan quickly following. “Alright, let me change then,” Paulie responded offhandedly, walking to the bathroom to change into her pajamas.

Once the door closed, Joan got up and followed in suit, putting her pajamas on.

She comes out a few minutes later with her inky hair thrown into a bun onto the top of her head, an old pair of shorts, and her undershirt on. She looked absolutely beautiful to Joan.

Joan ran her hand through her shoulder length hair, gazing up at her, before remembering what she was meant to do. “Alright then,” she said, going to her suitcase and finding a pair of socks rolled around a small box. She flipped it open and grabbed the joint and lighter. She nodded towards the window, motioning Paul to follow her.

When Paul sat in one of the chairs by the window, Joan handed the joint to her as she opened the window. She plopped down across from her bandmate, watching her light the stick between her lips with ease. She inhaled before pulling it away, looking out the window as she blew out, “Thanks for sharin’, Lenny,” she hummed, passing it to her.

“‘Course,” she hummed, taking it from her, puffing on it herself. Joan looked up at her from under her lashes, “How many blokes have you taken home after a show so far?” she asked.

Paulie shrugged, “Haven’t been counting, not many. I haven’t like most of ‘em, worse than the guys back home,” she chuckled, taking the cigarette back from Joan.

Joan giggled, “Birds, then?”

Paul coughed on the smoke as she said that, “No,” she responded sharply, not trying to entertaining the idea, “What about you, any special blokes?”

Joan shrugged coyly resting her head on her hand and looking towards the window, “Some,” she hummed, looking over at her. “Had a few girls, too,” she admitted.

Paul clenched her jaw, nodding and not trying to respond. Joan could see the flush run to her cheeks, and the way she would play with the ends of her bangs when she was nervous. Joan leaned in, “Do you ever think about it?” she asked.

Paul knew what she was asking, not thinking about being with any girl, but with Joan back when they were younger.

Joan sneaking into Paul’s bedroom late at night, with beers clinking in her bag. They would drink, and joke with each other, Paul trying to quiet Joan when she would get too loud when relaying a story. A few drinks later would lead to closeness, and wandering hands. Joan’s mouth would meet hers, and legs would be pushed between one another.

Paul gazed at Joan who sat across from her, wondering how honest she should be, “Sometimes,” she hummed. She knew it was the right answer when Joan nodded and looked out the window again.

“I think about it too,” she hummed, not specifying how often, “You were so cute, asking me to touch you so politely. Such a nice girl,” she added, acting like what she said wouldn’t have an effect on Paul. Joan smirked when she noticed Paul shift in her seat and reach for the joint. Joan hands it to her and smiles softly.

Paul bit her lip, “You made me ask you, always telling me to use my words.”

“How would I know what you wanted then, love?” she jokes, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

Paul rolled her eyes, “You knew better than I did, just wanted to fuck with me,” she hummed, hitting the joint again before tapping off the ash, and giving it back. She relaxed back into her seat, letting the sweet, heavy feeling fill her body.

Joan finishes the joint and sits it in the ashtray, “I hope you know more about yourself now,” she smiled.

Paul nodded, “A lot changes in five years,” she agreed.

“Why don’t you prove it?” Joan asked quickly, not wanting to let the moment pass.

Paul grinned and stood up. She grabbed Joan’s hand, dragging her to the bed and pushing her down. Joan let out a puff of air, smiling as Paul crowded her space, their chests being pressed together. Joan instinctively pulled the lazy bun out of Paul’s hair, threading her fingers through the soft locks. She leaned up and kissed Paul softly, her tongue swiping on her bottom lip.

Paul opens her mouth and puts her hand on Joan’s jaw, the kiss becoming hungrier. Joan hummed softly, wrapping her arms around her neck. Paul pushed her free hand up Joan’s thin tank top, her hand roaming her side.

Paul kissed down her neck, leaving Joan breathless. “Shit, I missed this. I missed you,” she groaned out honestly.

Paul looked up at her, nodding quickly, her eyes dark. Joan pulled at the hem of Paul’s shirt, begging her to take it off. Paul ignored her in favor of kissing down her exposed collarbone.

Joan pulled at her shirt again desperately. Paul chuckled softly, giving into pettiness, “Use your words, Joanie.”

Joan groaned softly, “Bitch,” she huffed out. Paul laughed again, pulling Joan’s shirt up over her head. Paul looked down and admired her exposed chest. A beautiful pink flush down her small chest.

“Why did we stop doing this?” Paul asked, her fingers running up her sides, stopping at her nipples to pull on them gently.

Joan whined softly, pulling at the hem of her shirt again, “Please, Paulie,” she begged softly, throwing her head back, desperate to see the woman on top of her shirtless.

Paul smiled and leaned down to kiss her softly, “Good job, asking so politely,” she hummed, pulling the shirt up over her head, revealing her chest. Joan’s mouth went dry when she finally laid her eyes on her.

Joan squeezed one of Paul’s tits, humming at the weight in her hand. Her gaze transfixed on her chest, leaning up to suck hickies on her chest, leaving kisses as she moved to suck her other nipple in her mouth.

Paul moaned softly and let her head fall back. She tangled her hands in her hair, mumbling out her name, “Fuck, Joan.”

Joan giggled softly, loving how she was still able to melt Paul. She let one of her hands trace down her exposed side, getting to the waistband of her shorts. Paul panted above her quietly.

Joan pushed her to lay down on her back, settling between her legs, “What do you want me to do?” she asked teasingly, already knowing Paul just wanted to feel Joan on her.

Paul groaned softly wanting to prove to Joan that she can ask for what she wants, “Touch me,” she stated.

Joan smirked, tracing circles into her inner thigh, “Touch you how?”

The younger groaned, before Joan would’ve just touched her, she’s just fucking with Paulie now, “You know what I mean,” she begged.

“I thought you didn’t beg anymore,” she laughed, pulling the waistband down slowly, Paul raising her hips to help her.

“Stop being a bitch, Joanie!” she groaned. Joan laughed, pulling the shorts off and throwing them off the bed.

Joan’s breath hitched when she saw the intoxicating wet patch on her underwear, “I can this once,” she rasped, running her thumb up her through the thin cloth. Paul whined again, steadily getting louder. Joan slipped her finger through the leg holes and pulled them down her long legs.

Paul whined as her cunt was exposed to the cold air. Joan’s thumb found her clit again, rubbing it softly, “You are so good for me,” she hummed softly.

Paul whined quietly as Joan pushed a finger inside of her, “Joan, fuck,” she whined.

Joan pushed in another, feeling the wet heat tighten around her fingers. Joan kissed up her thighs, hearing Paul’s breath hitch.

Paul’s hand grips her hair, trying to pull her in closer. Joan chuckled softly, “If you want something, you have to ask,” she hummed, resisting diving into her inviting cunt.

“Use your mouth, please,” Paul begged out, her voice whiny with lust. Joan hummed and leaned in hastily, flicking her clit with her tongue quickly. Paul’s leg shook around her head, small moans falling from her lips.

Joan sucked the nub into her mouth, humming around her, sending the vibrations through Paul’s body.

Paul gripped her hair tighter, “Joan, fuck thank you,” she whined out, leaning her head back. Joan’s other hand wrapped around Paul’s thigh, pulling her in closer as she sucked harder.

Joan continued her ministrations, humming against her while shoving her fingers deeper inside of her. Paul arched her back as she moaned incoherently. The older could tell when she was close by the way her hips bucked into her face.

Paul’s whines got higher in pitch as she came on Joan’s face. Paul panted softly and pushed Joan’s head away.

Joan leaned back, her fingers sliding out of Paul as she kissed soothingly on her thighs. She looked up at the sweaty and panting woman beneath her and grinned.

“You were so good for me,” she smiled, crawling up to kiss her softly, her chin still glistening.

Paul smiled up at her, her arms coming to wrap around her waist, holding her close. Joan smiled softly, “You okay?”

Paul smiled and kissed her again, deepening it, the heat in the room ramping up again. Joan’s hands tangled in her hair again, gripping it at the root. Paul adjusted Joan’s legs so she was straddling one of her own.

Paul gripped Joan’s hips and pushed her down against her thigh. Joan whined as a shock of electricity shoots through her. The shorts still on her legs adding extra friction.

Paul rubbed Joan up and down her thigh as she panted breathlessly. Paul watched as Joan leaned her head back and moan out as she got closer to the edge.

She picked up the pace of her hips, looking down at Paul as she came with a shout. Joan kissed her roughly, pushing them back onto the bed again. Paul giggled softly, gazing up at her, “You’re so good.”

Joan blushed softly and climbed off of her leg, lying down beside her. Paul grabbed the discarded duvet off of the floor and covered the two of them. She leaned over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, pulling two out, giving Joan her’s.

Joan wrapped an arm around Paul’s shoulder, “Again in a bit?” she asked

#fanfic #lesbian #the beatles #fem beatles #mclennon #lesbian mclennon #smut #oneshot #smutshot #paul mccartney #john lennon #beatles smut #beatles fanfiction

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